


Chances

by otomekaidii



Series: Cuddles for Mammon [12]
Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Apologies, Break Up, Cheating, Comfort/Angst, Crying, Cuddling & Snuggling, Drunkenness, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, F/M, Forgiveness, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Gender-neutral Reader, Heavy Angst, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Implied/Referenced Drunk Sex, Lack of Communication, M/M, Mild Language, Misunderstandings, No Smut, Other, Reader-Insert, Some F-Bombs, making amends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:40:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27904630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/otomekaidii/pseuds/otomekaidii
Summary: You and Mammon start to drift away from each other, and a drunken mistake forces you both to have a very difficult conversation.***Please Read the Tags***
Relationships: Mammon (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Reader
Series: Cuddles for Mammon [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2020583
Comments: 8
Kudos: 106





	1. Chapter 1

Mammon had just made the biggest mistake of his life. 

Which is honestly saying something when taking into consideration his age and tendency to make frequent stupid mistakes. But this one was far worse than anything he had ever done before. And the minute he was done, he knew just how badly he had fucked up. If he thought it would do any good at all, he would have gone to Lord Diavolo and Barbatos and begged, groveling if necessary, to go back in time and stop himself from doing this.

Ordinarily, he would go to you when he needed help getting himself out of a tight spot. But this wasn’t the sort of thing you could help with. It wasn’t something anyone could help with, really. He briefly considered just not telling you, but he knew the guilt would eat him alive. No matter how he looked at it, he was going to have to talk to you. 

But where would he even begin? Should he start with how he’s been feeling for the past month? Or just the incident from earlier in the week? Or should he just cut to the chase and say exactly what he did? He didn’t want to make excuses for himself, but at the same time he wanted you to understand how this all happened. It wasn’t because he didn’t love you, and he wanted to make sure you knew that more than anything. You could think he was stupid, selfish, a total scumbag - but he wouldn’t be able to live with it if you thought he didn’t love you.

And oh did he love you. So much. More than he ever thought possible. More than himself, more than Goldie, more than all the riches in all three realms combined. There was only one thing that would satisfy his Greed now - and that was you. 

That’s why it hurt so much when he felt you pulling away from him. He wasn’t sure how it happened exactly, either. Only that it was a slow process where he lost you little by little. The first thing he noticed was that you weren’t laughing with him as much as you used to. Instead you’d roll your eyes and ignore him. The next thing that caught his attention was when you stopped standing up for him in front of his brothers. Up until then, you were always quick to put an end to their shit when they’d try to pin all their problems on Mammon. But then one day...you just didn’t. 

That was probably the first big red flag that he was unable to rationalize away. And after that, he noticed dozens of other little things - how you stopped saving his seat at dinner, you didn’t wait for him to walk home from RAD, when you canceled movie nights without a reason. 

He wanted to talk about it, he knew he should. He knew that’s what you would want. But he just couldn’t make himself take that final step. Partly because he felt he had to have done something to upset you and that’s why you were acting this way...and partly because he was afraid of what you’d say. Afraid that you’d tell him you didn’t love him anymore, or even just confirm that it was all his fault, that you were tired of dealing with him. 

So he bottled it up, and shoved it down, and tried to ignore that lonely, empty feeling. But the longer he went without talking about it, the worse he felt, and the angrier he got. Couldn’t you see he was trying? Why didn’t you appreciate his efforts? Did you have any idea the things he’d given up, the changes he made, all to make you happy? To make you proud of him?

Until finally he started to pull away too. He stopped crawling into your bed at night. Stopped buying you little trinkets. Didn’t invite you out as frequently. Started spending more time out partying again, trying to keep his mind off you. 

And it was one of those late nights out at The Fall that started him down this path he was now clueless as to how to escape from.

Before he had even left the House of Lamentation, he knew what he was going to do - he was going to break up with you. It just hurt too much to be constantly rejected, avoided, and ignored when he was expecting you to be there for him. When it felt like you should be there. Too afraid to try to talk things out, he decided this was the only thing to be done. He would leave you before you had the chance to leave him.

But first, he needed some liquid courage. He didn’t want to be completely hammered, he still needed to be coherent enough to tell you what he wanted to say. He just needed some help working up the courage to knock on your door. 

It was then, while he was enjoying his third glass of Demonus, that he was approached by a beautiful demon. Of course, he didn’t think they could hold a candle to you, but there was no denying that they were attractive. And what better way to help himself relax than by giving himself over to his more demonic...urges? He was about to break up with you anyways. So what did it matter if he got a little frisky on the dance floor with someone else? Plus, knowing there were others that were still considered him desirable was a huge confidence booster, something he desperately needed right then.

Thinking back, he could see that this was the moment when he should have just turned around and left and went straight to you. Because maybe if he had talked to you right then, everything still could have been salvaged. He would be able to tell you how he felt, and you could tell him how you felt, and everything would just...work out.

But that’s not what he did. 

Instead, he took this demon’s hand and let them lead him out to the dance floor. Right to the middle of all the action. With so many bodies pressed together, and so little light, it didn’t take long at all before he lost himself in the music and the feeling of them grinding against him. Soon, his hands had found their way to their waist, and they encouraged him to let them roam. Under the hem of their dress. Pushing the straps on their shoulders aside for better access to their neck. Teasing the edge of the V on the neckline of their outfit. 

Mammon didn’t think he had been that drunk. But the combination of music, alcohol, and heat was overwhelming. So he didn’t hesitate when the demon asked if he wanted to get a private room. He didn’t hesitate when they pushed him down on the sofa. And he didn’t hesitate when they began undoing the buckle on his pants. All he could think about was how he wanted more, more, MORE. Something, _anything_ , to fill that hole you had left inside him.

And then it was all over. 

He was left in the room by himself. His partner not bothering to help him get cleaned up or get dressed. Wholly unconcerned with how he would get home, if he managed to get home at all. They had gotten what they wanted - a fun romp with a powerful demon - and now they could brag to all their friends about how they absolutely _ruined_ Mammon, Avatar of Greed.

The cool air on his bare skin began to return Mammon to his senses. And the more he sobered up, the more he hated himself, and the harder he cried. Silent tears, just streaming down his face, getting caught in his ears. He missed you so badly. You were always so tender and affectionate with him. You spoiled him. And this...it had been the opposite of everything he loved about you, and he felt so hollow, so _dirty_ , the longer he thought about it. 

Why had he thought that talking to you would be so scary? What made him think breaking up with you would have been so much easier? How did he manage to convince himself that this would give him courage?

Mammon wasn’t sure how long he laid there, staring at the ceiling and reflecting on where exactly it had all gone wrong. He didn’t remember getting himself dressed again either. And by the time he had returned to the House of Lamentation, he just felt _numb_. There was no point in delaying the inevitable, so he shuffled his way to your room, careful to avoid disturbing his brothers, and knocked on your door. 

When you saw him standing there, unsteady on his feet, reeking of booze, clothes absolutely filthy and unkempt, your eyes went wide. And then a moment later you had flung your arms around his neck, hugging him close. 

“I’m so glad you’re ok!” you whispered in his ear. Mammon was stunned. He didn’t know how to react. Should he hug you? Is that the appropriate reaction for someone who was about to shatter your heart into a million pieces?

“C’mon, let’s get you cleaned up,” you said, releasing Mammon, only to tug gently on his hand and lead him inside your room. He sat obediently on the edge of your bed, still trying to work out what he’s supposed to do next, as you gathered up a fresh change of clothes for him, and a couple damp washcloths to clean away all the grime. 

You couldn’t even begin to fathom what sort of trouble Mammon had gotten himself into this time. Did he start a bar fight? Refuse to pay for his drinks? It didn’t really matter to you though. You had been trying to reach him since earlier that afternoon and his DDD kept going to voicemail, and all your texts were ignored. You were just glad he was alive and in one piece, you’d deal with the fallout from whatever this was later. 

When you went to remove Mammon’s shirt, he finally reacted, grabbing your wrist and halting your movements. He still hadn’t figured out what to say, but he knew if you removed his shirt, it really would be all over. You’d see the evidence, marked all over his body.

“Mammon? What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” 

You knelt down on the floor in front of him, trying to catch his eye, as he was refusing to look at you. When you brought your other hand up to gently caress the one that was holding your wrist, he finally looked at you. Why were you so tender to him? Even now? Even when it was clear he must have done something absolutely awful? 

And that was all it took for the tears to start to flow again. Mammon let go of you, just to bury his face in his own hands as he tried to curl up into a ball from where he sat. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go! He was supposed to be mad at you! He was supposed to march into your room, and tell you things were over! Why was he now sitting on your bed, while you rubbed his arms, as he cried harder than he ever had cried before?

“Hey, sweetheart, what happened?” you asked softly, your concern only mounting the longer you spent with him as you watched him unravel. Mammon had always been on the emotional side, but this was beyond any reaction you had seen from him before. Carefully you moved to sit on your bed next to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders as he continued to cry. 

“I’m sorry. So sorry. I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry,” he choked out between sobs and gasping for breath. 

“Shhhhh, we’ll talk about it later. We’ll figure it out.”

You had started running your fingers through his hair, something you knew that he loved, before gently pulling him to you so that his head rested on your lap and his body curled up on the bed. 

Mammon hated himself more and more with each passing second. He knew he shouldn’t be letting you do this. He knew it was wrong of him to let you comfort him. He knew that he was just taking advantage of your kindness. But he just couldn’t help himself. He hadn’t been able to spend quality time with you in weeks, and laying here like this, your fingers running through his hair while you whispered soothing words in his ear, was just what he had been wanting. So even though each motion of your hand felt like a barb to his heart, he stayed and soaked up that feeling. This would be the last time you ever touched him, wouldn’t it?

As Mammon rested in your lap, you realized how much you had missed this. He had been so busy, for what felt like months, and no matter what you did your schedules never seemed to match up. You knew that was partly your fault though. You had been avoiding him to a degree. 

When you had first started dating him, everything had been amazing. He lavished you in love and attention. You gave him your whole heart, your entire being - and he returned your affections in full. There wasn’t time for anything else, the two of you were enamored with each other. Obsessed, even. 

But after awhile, you started to become aware of tiny little things that started working their way under your skin, grating on your nerves. On movie nights, he stopped asking if you’d be there. It wasn’t that he just assumed you would since it was your custom, but he didn’t even tell you he was looking forward to it or...anything. In fact, he hardly texted you at all now. Unless he wanted something. 

Before, it wasn’t unusual to find the two of you with dopey grins on your faces, sitting in the same room, sending each other all manner of adorable and ridiculous messages. And he always had a word of praise for you. Even if it was simple things like how he enjoyed the way you smiled at him that day during class. But those compliments had just dried up too. 

You tried a few times to send sexier texts, just to tempt him and get him to respond, but those were also ignored, aside from a flirty demoji. He just didn’t seem to have time for you anymore. 

The breaking point for you was one day at RAD, when you were waiting for him to walk home with you. He was late. Very, very late. You tried calling him, he didn’t answer. And when he finally appeared, he acted like nothing was wrong. He didn’t apologize or offer an explanation. He just grabbed your hand and started heading home, talking about his day like he hadn’t just left you standing at the entrance to the school for 30 minutes.

That’s when you decided to pull back a bit. Just a little. You just wanted him to notice all you did for him so he’d stop taking you for granted. You were expecting him to ask you about it, or to take a step towards you and initiate things for a change. 

But...he never did. 

He never breathed a word of it to you. He didn’t ask you what was wrong. He didn’t pick up the slack. He just let you drift away. And the less he said to you, the further away you pulled, until the two of you hardly saw each other at all. 

You were at the point now where just the sight of him made your heart break, especially when you’d catch him laughing or smiling with anyone else. It was like a slap in the face - he was still happy without you. He didn’t miss you. He didn’t _need_ you. For all those words of love and promises of eternity, you were just another passing distraction. You had served your purpose. And now, he was simply no longer interested in you. 

Today, you had decided to finally talk to him about it. You didn’t think you could survive much longer in this relationship limbo you currently found yourself in. You needed answers or...well, you didn’t want to think about the or. You still loved him. But you were starting to think he didn’t love you, even if you didn’t want to believe it and refused to let yourself admit it. 

When he first ignored your calls, you assumed he was just avoiding you, maybe even playing hard to get. Which you felt was fair, given how you had been behaving recently, not that that made it any easier to stomach. The longer he went without contacting you though, the more concerned you grew. Until he finally showed up at your door looking like death warmed over. And as soon as you saw him, nothing else seemed to really matter. 

After awhile, Mammon’s breathing had finally begun to even out and you could tell his crying had stopped. He didn’t move to sit up though, and you didn’t stop running your fingers lovingly through his hair. It seemed both of you knew that whatever happened next wasn’t going to be pleasant. You still needed to talk to him, and he still needed to confess to you.

“...I made a mistake…” Mammon finally mumbled into your lap, tightening his grip around your legs. He was going to hold on for as long as he possibly could.

“What sort of mistake?” you asked, in a quiet, gentle voice.

“...a really...really...bad one…” he choked out, fighting back his tears. 

“Tell me about it. We can fix it together.”

“...no...you can’t...you can’t fix this…”

“You won’t know for sure unless you tell me.”

“...someone…”

“Did someone hurt you?”

“...no...I...I...was...with...someone…”

“You were with some…?” you inhaled sharply as you finally began to understand what he was getting at. The hand that was combing through his hair stilled, but you didn’t push him away. You didn’t know what to do. Was this why he had been so distant? Why he started avoiding you too? Why he let you drift away? Because he had found someone else to take your place…? The thought of it made you sick. But why was he sobbing into your lap, desperately clinging to you if he had already decided to replace you? 

Not knowing what else to do, you resumed running your fingers through Mammon’s hair. You felt him flinch under your touch, but he still didn’t move. It was obvious he didn’t want to leave. And you...you didn’t want him to leave either. Not yet. Because the moment he did get up, and he did leave...that would be it. As long as he stayed here, holding you like this, you both could pretend that everything wasn’t as bad as it was for just a little bit longer.

Maybe it was the fact that your disposition made you naturally good in a crisis, but for whatever reason, you were calm. Irrationally so. Anyone else in your position would have shoved Mammon to the floor by now, and chased him from their room. But you didn’t. You were doing the unthinkable - you were comforting him. And all you could think about was finally getting the answers to the questions that had been plaguing you for over a month now.

“Do you think we could start from the beginning?” you asked. 

“The beginning…?”

“Yeah, like why did you go out tonight? Or when did all this start? The beginning. Whatever it is.”

“Umm...I…” Mammon stumbled over his words. Where did he even begin? Where was the beginning anyways? His heart was so mixed up. And even though he was sober now, he still couldn’t get his thoughts to focus. 

“Just start somewhere, ok? We can piece it together as you go.”

Mammon took a deep breath, steadying himself, before finally continuing, “I was...going to break up with ya tonight. That’s why I went out. I didn’t...I didn’t mean for this…” now that he had started talking, he was finding it easier to get his words out. He still had so much to answer for and so much to explain, and if you wanted to know, telling you was the least he could do.

“After...I...I knew I messed up. That’s why...why I came here…”

“...why did you want to break up with me?” 

Mammon’s admission of cheating hadn’t really bothered you. Perhaps you were just rationalizing it, but if he was planning on leaving you, then you weren’t really sure it could be counted as cheating. At least not in the same way as if he had stepped out in the middle of your relationship and had been trying to have his cake and eat it too. 

What really bothered you was the fact that he was even planning on breaking up with you in the first place. 

The thought that maybe he didn’t love you anymore briefly crossed your mind, but you had a growing suspicion that it was more than that. Something told you that you were somehow responsible for this. That your attempts at getting him to appreciate you had actually hurt him, instead of their intended effect. That if you had just talked to him sooner…

“...I thought ya didn’t want me anymore…” Mammon’s voice trailed off. He hadn’t said that out loud before, and it hurt far worse than he was expecting it to. It was like now that he had said it, it made it real. It wasn’t just something he feared or worried about. Now, it was simply a fact.

“Wh…? Why would you think that…?” you asked, but you knew why. You knew exactly why he thought that. You had done such a good job of pushing him away, after all. 

“You just...stopped laughin’. Like ya didn’t have fun with me...like ya preferred my brothers. Jus’...seemed like ya...were tired of me…”

By now, you had started crying. You tried to muffle your sobs with the hand that wasn’t still carding through Mammon’s hair, but you were unsuccessful. As soon as Mammon realized, he immediately sat up and turned to face you. He wanted to comfort you, to hug you. But it didn’t seem like the sort of thing you’d want from him right now. 

When Mammon sat up, all you could do was stare at him, both hands clamped over your mouth. The reality of what you had done was finally starting to hit you, and all you could feel was overwhelming guilt. Why didn’t you just talk to him first?? Why did you wait so long to talk at all?? You hadn’t accomplished anything that you had set out to do - you had only hurt the one person who mattered most to you. 

“I’m so sorry. I’m so so so sorry.” 

What else was there to say really? How would you explain that you had done those things...intentionally? 

Mammon started to reach out to you, instinctively wanting to hold you, but then he froze with his hands hovering halfway between you, not wanting to do anything that would make you uncomfortable. You didn’t hesitate to return the gesture though. And soon he had you pulled into his lap, straddling him, while you hugged one another, with your arms around his neck.

“I thought you were sick of _me_.”

“Why the hell would ya think that?” 

“...you stopped texting me. And there was that one day at RAD…”

“Huh?”

You pulled back from Mammon a bit so that you could sit up and face him, resting your hands on his shoulders, “There was one day I was waiting for you after school. I had to be waiting there for 30 minutes at least, before you finally showed up. And you didn’t say anything. You never told me why. You never apologized...and I just…I just felt like you were taking me for granted.”

It wasn’t difficult for Mammon to remember that day. He had been so happy to see you waiting for him, even after he had taken so long to get ready. You still waited. Part of him just assumed you knew, that saying those things was unnecessary, because you always seemed to know what he was trying to say. 

“I was happy to see ya. I’m always happy to see ya.” Mammon tucked a stray hair behind your ear before cupping your cheek tenderly with one of his hands and wiping away what tears he could reach with his thumb. You closed your eyes and just held his hand to you, enjoying the feeling of the warmth on your skin. Why hadn’t you just talked to him sooner?

You knew the next part of your story was going to be hard to hear, and even harder for you to admit. But it needed to be said, probably more than anything else. 

“So umm...I decided to...kinda play hard to get I guess? I thought if I wasn’t as available, if you had time to miss me, that you would appreciate me more. Except...you didn’t...so…” silent tears had started running down your cheeks and you couldn’t bring yourself to raise your gaze to meet Mammon’s either. 

“I just…” you continued, determined to get the rest of your thoughts out, “...I thought that you would say something to me about it, you know? I kept waiting for you to notice. But you never did...you just kept on like nothing was wrong. And…I...I didn’t know what to do…”

To your surprise, you felt one of Mammon’s hands begin to tenderly rub your back, as he gently pulled you towards himself so he could hold you again. He had been so stupid. The irony was not lost on him that by avoiding talking to you, he managed to let you slip through his fingers. If he had only _mentioned_ that he even noticed any of the things that had been bothering him, the two of you likely would have worked things out. Or at least, had the opportunity to try. 

You slipped your arms back around him, burying your face into his neck. From that position, you couldn’t smell the alcohol - just the comforting, warm scent you came to know as “Mammon.” Wouldn’t it be nice if you could just stay there? you thought.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, “I should have talked to you. But instead I...”

“Shhhhhh, it’s ok. It’s ok,” he soothed, continuing to rub your back ever so affectionately. It was clear to him now that this massive dumpster fire that his life had become had all started from some small, seemingly innocuous incident. Hindsight is 20/20 as they say, and his was no exception. All the small moments when he could have done something to prevent things from spiraling out of control replayed in his mind with perfect clarity. So many chances that he ignored where he could have taken you aside and just said “thanks” or asked if you were ok. And he had just let them all pass him by, too scared to make a move.

“I’m sorry too. I should have talked to ya.” His response just made you hug him closer. How could you be mad at him when you did the exact same thing?

“...do you still want to leave me…?” You were hesitant to even ask, but...you had already wasted enough time not talking these last few weeks. 

Mammon stiffened. He was not expecting you to ask him that. At least not in that voice. And especially not after he had admitted to being intimate with another. Of course he didn’t want to leave you. He never really wanted to in the first place; he had just backed himself into a corner and couldn’t figure a way out. And weren’t you supposed to be pushing him away now? The air had finally been cleared. There was no more reason for you to let him stay. He couldn’t forgive himself for what he had done, and he had no right to expect you to.

“...do ya want me to…?”

You sat up again, keeping your arms looped around Mammon’s neck. You knew why he was asking that question. And you had almost let yourself forget about it. But it was something that needed to be addressed and couldn’t be simply ignored, no matter how much you wanted it to. 

“I think...this was like a perfect storm, you know? We did this to ourselves. I mean, even if you didn’t make that...mistake...I can’t act like I wasn’t responsible for hurting you in the first place. And if we had just talked…? I feel like none of this would have happened. So…” you wove your fingers into Mammon’s hair at the nape of his neck, before leaning your forehead against his and continuing, “I’d like to try again. And maybe not make the same mistakes twice?”

You opened your eyes to find him staring at you, and you offered him a small smile before pressing a kiss to the tip of nose. Mammon smiled at you in return, a light blush dusting his cheeks. How had he managed to get so lucky? You were...he didn’t even have a word for it. “Everything” didn’t seem like it was enough, his feelings about you were much stronger than that. All he knew for sure was that he couldn’t live without you. 

“I love you,” you whispered, wrapping him up in yet another hug, “so much. And I’m sorry I didn’t make sure you knew that.”

Mammon hugged you tighter, hiding his face in your neck. He was so glad you were still here, that you hadn’t left. He had a second chance, and he was determined not to mess things up.


	2. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A couple weeks later...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just some tooth-rotting fluff to make you feel better after the main story. I didn’t feel like it belonged with the rest, so I’m adding it here as a little “extra”.

It had been a couple weeks now since you and Mammon had finally talked to one another. And things were going a lot better than you had expected. After your conversation, Mammon had gotten himself cleaned up, changing into a set of clean clothes he kept in your room, before crawling into bed beside you. The two of you then spent the rest of night, into the early hours of the morning, talking and whispering words of love to one another. There had been so much to catch up on, that you hadn’t been able to share while avoiding him. And it felt good to finally have your best friend and partner in crime back and talking with you again. 

After that, you two were stuck together like glue, always touching one another in some way - a hand on the shoulder, pinkies linked together, legs resting against each other. You still felt a knot of anxiety sometimes when Mammon was slow to reply to a message, but both of you made a considerable amount of effort to draw closer to one another. And the results you felt spoke for themselves - everyone in the House of Lamentation got so sick of looking at the two of you, that Lucifer finally gifted you a voucher for a free meal at Ristorante Six just to allow the rest of them to have a peaceful dinner. Well, that’s what he told you at least. But you were fairly certain he had noticed how depressed you and Mammon had both been and wanted to give you something as a way to celebrate resolving...whatever it was.

As you walked home, Mammon swung your joined hands happily between the two of you, fingers laced together to get as much contact with you as possible. He was in such a good mood. To think a few short weeks ago he had been positive that he’d never get to enjoy a moment like this with you again. And now look at him. Laughing and smiling, with a big dopey grin that hadn’t left his face once. So happy that he didn’t even care how much his brothers tried to tease him.

And boy did they try, in a vain attempt to discourage the lovebirds from all their PDA. 

It did not work.

In fact, it only made it worse.

Not that you were complaining.

**Author's Note:**

> Every time I read over this, I like the MC/Reader less and less. 😂
> 
> Please feel free to discuss in the comments! I’d love to know your thoughts!


End file.
